The Catalyst
by Roy Does Not Approve
Summary: "He is the one who holds the destruction of our people, our god at his very fingertips. The one who has killed thousands, the one who plans to overthrow the government and rule. Roy Mustang, he is the Catalyst. And a Catalyst cannot be allowed to live."


***This is going to be my**_** first**_** and **_**final**_** A/N for this story, so please read! ***

**This chapter is well over 3000 words so if you are a slow reader and/or have a short attention span, be warned. In addition since I do not intend on making extremely long chapters, I have added dividers between sections which I find appropriate to establish. The list of warnings which I think would be beneficial to include are as follow:**

• _**Character death. I am not revealing who/when/why, I'll leave that to the imagination and future.**_

• _**No legitimate shipping. I apologize, but I realize that many people favor/dislike certain ships. Although I can ensure that I will include moments for various ships.**_

• _**Takes place shortly after the Liore arc, which means that Mustang isn't in Central yet.**_

• _**Violence is ensured**_

• _**Also, depending on circumstance there may or may not be crude language.**_

• _**I am almost 99.9% certain that chapters may remain within the 3K+ word range**_

• _**Terrible cliff-hangers**_

**Since these chapters take a while for me to type (and considering how long they are) updates may take a while.**

**Alright, without further interruption I shall now introduce you to my first FanFiction:**

**The Catalyst**

A photo was tossed across a cracked wooden table, quickly being halted by a pale, wrinkled hand with long, cracked nails. The atmosphere in the room shifted, eyes from all over the room quickly flashing towards the picture of their target. The man looked down at the photo beneath the palm of his hand, his breath ragged and pained as if each puff of air he inhaled felt like a stab to the chest. The air was thick with anticipation as the old man lifted a shaky hand towards a chipped pen by his side, carefully writing a name down on the photograph.

_Roy Mustang_

The old man inhaled sharply before looking up at the crowd before him with pale, fogged eyes as he turned the photograph around, revealing the man's identity, "Roy Mustang- Flame Alchemist," his weak voice spoke out as he withdrew his hands to the end of the table, away from the photograph, "He is a colonel in the Amestrian military, second in command inside the Eastern Headquarters. His column includes First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, Second Lieutenants Jean Havoc and Heymans Breda, Master Sergeant Kain Fuery, Chief Warrant Officer Vato Falman, and State Alchemist Edward 'Fullmetal' Elric. He is the one you want."

"Is there any other information about the target that you can give us?"

The elder closed his eyes, "Yes, yes there is." He spoke in his whisper-like voice. The room stood silent, every second seemed to have become long, agonizing centuries. The information they gained today would mean the difference between the victory or failure of their plan, they could not risk wasting time. "Currently, he resides within a military apartment complex, third floor room 24C. He has no living relatives, his subordinates are the closest thing he has to family and he trusts them with his life. They could very well be his greatest weakness. If you get a hold of one of them, he will soon follow."

The room stood still as eyes carefully skimmed towards a man who stood directly across from the senior. His face was shadowed by the darkness of the room as his hands tapped patiently against the wooden table. Upon his hand was an ornate, golden ring that seemed to shine against the faint flicker of a distant candle. The man nodded, his white teeth shining, "His greatest strength yet his deadliest fault, I assume. That is fitting."

The old man nodded hastily, "Y-Yes sir, he is the one we want and need- our Catalyst."

The room then stood silent, nothing but the sound of the other man's nails tapping somewhat harshly against the cracked table, "My, it seems that you were of use after all." He hummed as the tapping suddenly ceased, "Unfortunately however, milk always tends to spoil. You're well over your expiration date, my friend."

The old man stiffened, "But... but sir-" his pleas were suddenly silenced once the man put his hand up, signaling him to cease. There was a sudden click of a gun from behind the old man as a younger man emerged from the shadows, promptly holding his gun up to the elder's head.

"Don't get me wrong," the man's feathery voice spoke from behind, "I truly enjoyed having you as an accomplice. But it seems that we just can't afford to risk having you within our presence anymore." The old man's heart dropped as his shaky, wrinkled hands clenched into weak fists. He closed his eyes and looked down, wishing- no, praying that they were bluffing.

"I have served your family my entire life." The old man began, keeping his eyes away from the man before him, "I have remained loyal, never even dreaming of compromising your good name-"

"And we thank you for your services." The man interrupted once more, causing the elder to look up with pitiful eyes, "But unfortunately, you have become a nuisance that we cannot continue to harbor."

"No-" A sudden gunshot rang within the room as various people closed their eyes and looked away, refusing to view the sight. The old man's blood stained the photograph as his arms went limp, falling to his sides. The man which sat across from the elder watched, unfazed as his cataract-stricken eyes rolled back whilst he fell over, hitting the table with a loud bang.

"Nothing more than a setback." He murmured before standing up, turning from the graphic sight as he began to walk away, "Clean this mess up and dispose of the corpse, before he starts to stain my table."

"Lieutenant?" A young voice flooded into Colonel Roy Mustang's office as the door was pushed open, revealing a short, blonde haired, golden eyed boy flanked by a seven foot tall suit of armor. Four pairs of eyes quickly darted towards the brothers as they each waved their greetings,

"Hello, Edward. I take it you've completed your report early this time." Riza Hawkeye nodded towards the young State Alchemist, putting her fountain pen down upon seeing the small stack of papers Edward held against his side.

"Uh, yeah I figured I should get all of this official stuff out of the way before I head to Resembool." He spoke, taking his hand up and rubbing the back of his neck, "Have you seen the Colonel-"

"Stay still, damn it!" A male voice which sounded an awful lot like Havoc interrupted Edward.

"OW!" Another voice- Roy Mustang's voice cried out, "What the Hell was that for? N-No! STOP TOUCHING IT!"

"I can't stop touching it, you hot-head! Just stay still lean over and take your punishment like a man!"

"But it hurts so much!" Mustang whined, "O-Ow! Just take it out already!"

"But it's stuck, she was too rough on you and now I can't get it out!"

"Be gentle, damn it!"

"I can't be gentle, you know that!"

"But it hurts!"

"Well what did you expect? Stop squirming and maybe it won't hurt as much!"

The young State Alchemist's face flushed as he watched the door which led to the colonel's office with a disturbed look. It wasn't every day you heard such... odd things coming from your superior's office. Hell, you _never_ heard such things coming from Mustang's office: It's supposed to be sound-proof! Edward turned his head and looked at his subordinates helplessly. Breda bit his lip, his face was red from holding in his laughter. Fuery and Falman looked down at their desks, their lips quirked up into a smirk as they chuckled silently. Hawkeye on the other hand remained completely stoic.

"Um, Lieutenant is Colonel Mustang alright?" Alphonse finally spoke up, compensating for his shock-stricken brother. In truth, Alphonse was only mildly confused as to why his brother was so affected by what they had heard. He didn't exactly understand what the others had found so amusing. There was nothing strange about what the two were talking about, right?

Breda, who had successfully managed to snort after trying to keep in all of his laughter, somewhat narrowed his eyes towards Hawkeye. The rest of his subordinates soon followed suit, causing the blonde sharpshooter to release a disgruntled huff, "He's fine, Alphonse. Colonel Mustang was sleep deprived, so he began to imagine that I was one of his one-nighters which I then proceeded to beat him with a chair in defense. Needless to say, he ended up with a considerable amount of splinters in some very undesirable places and Havoc was the unlucky soul who had been dragged to take care of the aftermath."

The entire room stood silent, watching the blonde haired alchemist who suddenly began to recompose. His once shock filled face cascaded into one of pure amusement as he smirked widely, "So you're saying that the 'Hero of Ishval' is inside his office screaming his head off _begging_ because of a few splinters?"

Riza nodded, "Yes, Edward." She spoke in monotone, showing zero signs of willingness to continue the conversation as she picked up her black pen and continued her paperwork. The door the Mustang's office suddenly slammed open, revealing an agitated Havoc,

"I am done with you, sir! Next time if you're going to act stupid, get Falman to take care of those bloody splinters!" He yelled in irritation, stomping out of the office before suddenly pausing and turning around to look inside the office, "And get a tan, you black-haired albino ghost!"

The room once again stood silent, carefully studying Havoc as he grumbled, spilling incoherent curses as he stomped his way towards his desk. He landed on the wooden chair with a thump, pulling out an unlit cigarette and sticking it in between his lips in an attempt to compensate for not actually being welcomed to smoke inside headquarters.

His subordinates, everyone but Riza Hawkeye who was doing her paperwork just like himself, watched in curiosity. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Mustang was the prime reason for his attitude, but it still irked then limitlessly that someone as laid back as Jean Havoc would be this influenced by Roy Mustang's actions.

The two Elric brothers shared a look before nodding, "Uh, so we're just going to go hand in these papers if that's alright with you." Edward spoke somewhat cautiously, receiving authorization from Hawkeye as she stood made her way over to the Colonel's private office. She knocked twice on the already open door,

"Sir, the Elric brothers are here to speak with you." She spoke flatly, clearly still ticked off by the day's earlier events. After what seemed to be a telepathic conversation between the two soldiers, Riza Hawkeye moved aside and motioned for the two brothers to enter the room before shutting the door behind them.

"Hello Fullmetal, Alphonse." Mustang murmured, not sparing a second to look up at the two as he appeared to be filling out paperwork. The two brothers bid their greetings before waking deeper into the office, stiffening once they saw the nearly-overflowing bucket of splinters and a dismantled chair to the side of the room. Hawkeye must have been furious with him if she managed to turn a perfectly good chair into a pile of splinters and scrap wood.

The two brothers shifted, unsure of how to approach him. Mustang simply sat there, his pen gliding across each piece of paper as if for the first time in history he was actually _enjoying _his paperwork. His face remained completely neutral if not apathetic, his eyes barely even twitched towards the two in recognition. It wasn't like Mustang to act so... _calm_, especially after the day's recent events. There were no crude or annoying remarks, not even his signature smirk nor utter display of shock he held every once in a while when Fullmetal randomly decides to bring in his paperwork on time.

It was disturbing.

Alphonse nudged his brother gently on the arm, successfully managing to move him forward just enough to get a better look at Mustang. The alchemist's eyes narrowed slightly once he noticed what his superior officer was actually doing. What was supposed to be official documentation was being aimlessly scribble upon randomly. It was like a blind old man whose hands had been gnawed off was trying to write in some foreign script, the only difference was that the supposed old man was just a sleep deprived pyromaniac.

The golden-eyed boy huffed, spending no hesitation in being further disturbed. He had a train to catch, he didn't have time to waste on some hot-head. Proceeding to drop his report right on top of Mustang's mutilated paperwork, Edward stepped back slightly as he studied his superior's reaction. The man's eyes widened slightly as the stapled stack of papers landed on his desk, somewhat skidding to a halt after he placed his hand on it, "You're early." He stated in a somewhat dull manner, his posture straightening as he eyed the stack of papers in shock. Taking them in his hands, Mustang flipped through the pages carefully, his eyes skimming through every line of text carefully, "It's complete too. What's the occasion, Fullmetal?"

"I'm heading back to Resembool for maintenance." Edward stated bluntly as he continued to study his superior, "I figured since you might get someone to hunt me down if I get my work in late, I might as well get it done before I leave."

The Flame Alchemist nodded softly, the rough feel of the paper' sedges skimming across his hand unknowingly as he turned the page, "Any luck on that stone you've been chasing after?"

"No." Edward stated before looking away from the onyx-eyes man, "No, so far I'm at a dead end. That city, I'm pretty sure it's called Liore, it was a bust."

Mustang nodded, putting the report down as he leaned back on his chair and watched the two brothers. No matter how much of a disaster Liore is now, Mustang couldn't find the strength within himself to tell them. It was their first victory, hearing about the conflicts that had risen would only hold them back from their goal. Regardless, that still didn't mean that he could just let them he away with destroying part of a city. "You know, I think it would have been helpful to at least show _some_ restraint while at Liore, Fullmetal."

"What are you talking about, I always show restraint!"

"Of course you do, Fullmetal." Mustang replied unconvinced, "It was your glorious show of restraint that caused me to stay up all night filing various packets of paperwork because a certain _someone_ just couldn't help to not only dethrone a city's favorite prophet, but also destroy part of the city in the process."

"But I helped them, they should be grateful!" The boy protested, balling his hands into fists, "Besides, that bastard started it anyway."

"That may be so, but did the rest of the population in Liore deserve the damage you've caused to their city?" Mustang questioned, carefully observing the two, 'The military isn't made out of money, Fullmetal. We can't afford to keep up with all of the damage expenses you keep giving us, and I can't continue to fund you if all you're going to do is destroy public property."

"You're part of the military, Fullmetal. The last thing we need is a hormonal teenager running rampant throughout the city. Next time try not to make such a big mess out of things, understood?"

"I'm not a hormonal teenager." Edward growled in irritation as his eyes snapped towards Mustang, his right eye nearly twitching and his fists tightened.

"Would you like it better if I called you a tantrum-prone toddler?"

"_Why_ must it be 'toddler'?"

At that moment, Alphonse stiffened as he saw the look on Mustang's face. He leaned back even further in his chair, his lips brilliantly showcasing his cocky smirk which always managed to get on his older brother's nerves as he watched the blonde curiously, "Why, I'm just trying to be as accurate as possible, Fullmetal." He spoke casually as the not watched him dangerously, "You know, considering your height and all."

From that day on, Roy Mustang would be known as the man who managed to get beat up by both a boy and his subordinate in less than an hour for simply being his _unique_ self.

"Don't you think you were a bit too rough on him, brother?" Alphonse asked softly, his voice sounding more wary than anything. The two brothers were already heading back to their small apartment after a relentless Kain Fuery (along with a few, less persistent bystanders) insisted that they check their apartment before their departure. It was pointless and just an overall waste of time. Why in the world would he forget something at the apartment, or forget to lock it? Did they really take him as an idiot?

"Hello no!" Edward somewhat hissed, causing his younger brother to look down at him with what would have been a surprised expression, "That bastard deserved everything he got."

Alphonse looked away as yet both continued down the sidewalk. The crescent moon lit the sky as various lamp posts aided the celestial object. The wind was cool, dancing through the air, singing it's lyrical carol. The streams were vacant, not another living being in sight as the two brothers continued to walk.

"What exactly did the colonel do to deserve what you did to him, brother?" Alphonse asked, the sound of his heavy armor ringing in the air.

Edward's face pinched as his hands, which were sunken deep inside his pockets, balled into fists. "First he decided to nag me about the whole Liore incident even though I did more good than bad. And then he to insult me and then called me short, and then he denied it!" Edward retorted as they took a short turn, arriving at the door to their apartment complex, "Besides, I think that shoving his face into that bucket of splinters was completely rational."

Alphonse shook his head, watching as Edward's gloved hand reached out and twisted the doorknob open, "Maybe, but now Warrant Officer Falman has to deal with the splinters on the colonel's face , brother."

Edward shrugged, not really caring who would be pulling out the splinters from the bastard's face. All he cared about was getting away from East City, somewhere far, far away. Somewhere peaceful, away from the stupid playboy and his obsessed bimbos. Someplace where a somewhat hormonal, blonde teenager with uncanny aim can throw a nice and heavy metal wrench at his cranium. Somewhere were his tiny Granny Pinako can participate in excessive arguments.

Oh yes, anything would be better than being within a twenty-mile radius of Colonel Roy Mustang.

Anything.

"Brother?" Alphonse's voice pulled Edward out of his thoughts as the blonde blinked, doing his best to get a grip of his surroundings once more. His head suddenly felt oddly heavy, like gravity was somehow fascinated with his head and was trying to pull him down in order to get a closer look. The sensation sent a rush of pain to his head, his eyes felt strained and his movements were slightly sluggish, like he was stuck in a jar of honey.

"Hm?" Edward murmured, running a slightly shaky hand through his radiant hair as he took in a sharp inhale of crisp air, "I'm sorry, just tired, you know? We'll leave tomorrow, I don't think I can survive the train ride without falling asleep on our way to the station."

Yes, sleep. That was it. That was what he needed. He knew what exhaustion felt like, this was nothing different. Nothing new.

Alphonse nodded, following his brother into the apartment complex and gently closing the door, silencing the ballad of the wind, "Are you sure Winry will be fine with you coming late?" His voice was laced with concern as he watched his brother with a face that would have been worry. His brother seemed tired, that much was for sure, "You're a heavy sleeper, brother. I think we'll be a bit late, don't you?"

"Winry can afford to have us a few hours late. If she asks, we'll say that the colonel sent us on an errand. At least that sounds believable."

"You say that so casually, like you're alright with lying to her." Alphonse deadpanned as he followed his brother up the staircase and into the level in which their apartment rested. The corridor was dimly lit by three lightbulbs, wishing to be able to receive a break from their long job. Edward shrugged, his head feeling anything but better as he somewhat stumbled towards the door to his apartment, his gloved hand quickly grasping the doorknob whose gold coating was chipping from use.

"If it means avoiding a wrench to the head, then I'm all for it." Edward mumbled, fiddling with the key that rested within his pants pocket. His hands became noticeably shaky and stiff, his movements seemed to be getting slower by the second. The blonde felt like dancing once he got his key out of his pocket and into the doorknob, already imagining how good it would feel to pass out on his bed and just _sleep._

The door clicked shut behind the two brothers, ushering them into a private quarters of darkness. The air within the room felt stale, and there was dust floating along with it. The older Elric paid no attention to his surroundings and instead rubbed his weary eyes, yawning.

Finally he was home. He could be as lazy as he'd like, waltz around the house without his usual get up and just roll around in bed. Then he could try to sleep in, maybe even use that nice, thick, fluffy blanket Pinako gave him and roll around with it until he finally just passed out.

And so that is exactly what he did, falling unconscious right on top of his couch completely dismissing all his previous ambition. No, rolling around in bed and grabbing a blanket took too much effort. This, on the other hand, was everything he needed- sleep.

Alphonse shook his head, moving to sit on the floor right next to his sleeping brother as he looked down at the wooden floor. It'd be best if he didn't disturb Edward, he'll probably just wake up soon enough anyway to tiptoe through the room in order to get a snack as if Alphonse was even asleep.

Alphonse shut his glowing orb-like eyes as he released a content sigh as a sudden shift from a far corner of the room resonated within the air. The boy's eyes snapped open as he turned his head quickly, relieved to see his brother shift in his sleep.

It was nothing. Nothing but his brother, everything was fine.

The younger Elric brother huffed, leaning his metal head against the duly-painted wall in exasperation. Everything was getting so... _slow_. He didn't understand, he couldn't. Even his movements were starting to get slower, he was hearing things but it was all in his head. Maybe he was finally experiencing some variant form of fatigue, if that was even possible for a suit of armor.

Alphonse looked up at the cracked ceiling, paying no particular attention to anything. There was a cobweb at the side of the room, hitched right in between of two intersecting walls and a cracked ceiling. The flickering streetlight of East City, illuminating the apartment like a strobe light as screaming couples and crying children filled the air. The inaudible tapping of small, feeble legs transporting a lonely roach across the floor, not even the strange creaking of feet moving across floorboards or a gentle white glistening light or his brother violently being grabbed from his sleep was enough to grab Alphonse's attention.

He was just so _tired_.

Alphonse Elric's head suddenly fell lazily to the side, his glowing eyes watching unwaveringly as his elder brother was grabbed and incapacitated by strange, masked men who had glowing white rings. The younger Elric brother's glowing eyes dimmed as darkness began to envelope him like a veil.

The last thing he heard was Edward's cry for help.


End file.
